Chapter 38
Aro
The dressing room is quiet in that eerie way hospitals and funerals are. Like the walls are holding their breath, waiting for bad news. My makeup’s done. Hair pinned back. I look in the mirror and see a version of myself I don’t recognize. I’m a breathing target in a silk robe. Fantastic.
There’s a knock at the door. I glance at Sean, but before he can move, it creaks open and Axel pokes his head in.
“You good?” he asks.
I give him a look. “Define good.”
“Fair enough.” He steps inside. “I’ve got someone who wants to see you.”
My stomach drops. “I’m not in the mood for surprise visitors. Please tell me it’s not another last-minute surveillance team. I don’t think I have it in me to be charming again.”
“Nothing like that,” Axel says, quieter now.
Before I can push for more, he pulls the door wider.
And there he is.
Ben. Dad.
He’s older now. Leaner than I remember. He’s traded the sleek suits of my teen years for a tux, but his posture still says FBI. His hair’s mostly gray, and the lines around his mouth are deeper. But his eyes? They’re exactly the same. The same as mine.
My breath catches. “Dad?”
He steps in like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he moves too fast. “Hey, kid.”
Everything inside me coils tight. I want to scream, cry, and run to him all at once. But I just stand there, frozen.
“I didn’t know you were—” My voice cracks. “Here.”
“I should’ve found you sooner,” he says, voice thick. “But I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”
He looks to Axel, who gives a nod, then signals Sean. They both slip out, leaving us alone.
Ben walks toward me slowly, like every step is deliberate. “Axel filled me in on the whole plan,” he says. “Johnny’s brilliant little gamble.”
I tense. “You don’t think it’ll work?”
“Oh, I think it’ll work.” His jaw tightens. “But at what cost?”
I frown.
He keeps going. “Using you like this? Putting you in front of Joe like bait? This far into the game? No. I don’t like it, Lina. And I sure as hell don’t like that Johnny let it get this far.”
“He didn’t have a choice.”
Ben laughs, bitter and low. “Everyone’s got a choice. Even Johnny. He’s just so busy trying to rewrite the past, he’s burning everything in the present.”
“Joe has to be stopped,” I say calmly.
His gaze softens. “I know. I want him stopped, too. But not like this. Not with you in the crosshairs.”
I wrap my arms around myself. “It’s not just Johnny’s war. It’s mine, too.”
“I get that,” he says. “But you’re still my kid. Watching you walk into this kind of recklessness—because someone who supposedly loves you won’t find another way—I’m not thrilled.”
I bristle.
“Johnny didn’t make me do this,” I say. “I chose to. And he doesn’t love me.”
Ben studies me and sighs. “You’ve always been stubborn.”
My lips twitch. “Wonder where I get it from.”
“Fair point.”
I take a shaky breath. “So… you really know everything? About Joe? Rachel?”
He nods. “Axel filled me in. Rachel’s dad has blood money in everything from oil to organ trafficking. Joe’s just his hand in the skin operation. Johnny’s not wrong, Joe’s a monster. But this wedding plan? It’s risky.”
I step forward, chin high, resting a hand on his. “I can handle myself. You made sure I knew how.”
He exhales sharply, then cups my cheek with a rough, familiar hand. We stand there in the silence, something fragile holding between us. It’s not nearly enough, but it’s more than I thought I’d ever have again. And I’ve learned to take something over nothing.
“Are you staying through the ceremony?” I ask.
He snorts. “You think I’d leave you here? Hell no.”
I laugh. “Good. I need someone else to be angry, too.”
“Oh, I’m furious.” His eyes glint. “But I’m also proud. You’ve survived things that would’ve broken most people. You’re still standing. Still swinging.”
“Still here,” I whisper.
“Exactly.”
There’s a knock on the door. Axel pokes his head back in.
“We’re getting close,” he says. “Almost showtime.”
Ben squeezes my hand once more. “Do what you gotta do out there. But if anything looks wrong—if anything changes—”
“I know.” I nod. “You’ve got my back.”
He holds my gaze, saying a hundred things with one look—love, regret, fear, pride—then turns and walks out.
I take one last look in the mirror. Not at the hair or the makeup, just the eyes. Our eyes.
I’m still me. Still strong. Still here.
It’s time to finish this.